I didn't want to interupt my blog essay on the gorgeousley Lynchian red bar of Roadside Attraction. (Seriousley, has anyone else gotten that Twin Peaks feel at that place) to bring up my other two topics of the day, Hawthorne and The Parlour.
Today's journey into Hawthorne (recorded as my last, until I am in a stable enviornment in which I obtain my old life) brought inexpensive fun, and a was devoid of all negative emotions. Tough act to pull, for the passive agrressive types that frequent the square. But after spending five dollars at Powells on some deliciousley artfull photo cards, sixteen dollars on a 20's polo shirt and a blue grey sailor double padded cotton T that fits like a hug, one dollar on a best of Chris Farley dvd at cd game exchange, and a number of pictures taken on every angled street corner, my ideal day at Hawthorne was complete. Save for going to the Bagdad theatre, which I decided to put off until there was a film worth seeing in the company of a cold beer. (I still have no desire to see Kick Ass)
I recombobulated at Tiny's for some pizza bagels, and Indiana Jones pinball. Before finally making my way to Laura Palmer's dream.
In another note, what was promised to be a Gossip Girl style arthouse event of the dying spring, proved futile in my cancellation of The Parlour's closing party. Life has been throwing me downright exhastive curveballs lately. And I will simply have to make it up to Mr. Mcewin in some other reincarnated form of way.
No comments:
Post a Comment